


Bouclier

by GraeWrites



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon), Tangled (2010)
Genre: A tiny bit of Rapunzel whump, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst/Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Eugene Fitzherbert!Whump, Eugene really goes through it, F/M, Hurt Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider, I guess there's some elements of self-sacrifice, Kidnapped Eugene Fitzherbert, Kidnapped Rapunzel, Other TTS character are mentioned, Protective Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider, Protective Rapunzel (Disney), Some Cursing, Stabbing, Threats, Varian is in it briefly, Violence, but not for much of it?, lots of angst and hurt and pain but it has a happy ending, please heed warnings, some crying happens, the harm to rapunzel is more STRONGLY IMPLIED than "on-camera", the injuries aren't like SUPER graphic/gross but the tag is there so please be warned, the same cannot be said for Eugene, the title is the french word for shield, this got six times longer than i meant it to, to both of them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:53:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24986374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraeWrites/pseuds/GraeWrites
Summary: When Rapunzel and Eugene are both kidnapped, Eugene will do whatever he can to try to protect Rapunzel.Including making himself a larger, more insufferable target of their aggression.
Relationships: Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider/Rapunzel
Comments: 27
Kudos: 190





	Bouclier

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Tangled fandom! Some Eugene whump that was not supposed to get as long (or as dark) as it did. Still a bit new to these characters. Grateful for the opportunity to play around with them a bit. Hope you all enjoy!

The fist that connects with the side of Eugene’s jaw makes the room spin for a moment. His mouth floods with the taste of warm copper. He spits the mouthful of blood at the thug’s feet, flexing his grip against the rope bindings that keep him strapped to the chair. The move is met with a throaty growl and a fist in his hair, yanking his head back.

“Don’t touch him!” Rapunzel demands, giving a sharp jerk against her own restraints. Eugene feels his own chair—back to back with Rapunzel’s—rattle a bit from the force.

The cell they’d been kept in for the past couple of days is relatively small, and smells of the mildew that clings to the damp stone around them. Eugene and Rapunzel had been kidnapped in the middle of the night during what was _supposed_ to be a romantic vacation to the northern part of the kingdom. So much for that.

“Barely felt it,” Eugene quips, quirking an eyebrow at his most recent assailant. “But I get it. Wouldn’t want to risk breaking nail, y’know.”

The other man towers over Eugene, with short cropped hair and a scent that reeks of rotting vegetables. He gives a sharp jerk at Eugene’s hair, and it’s only by sheer willpower that Eugene doesn’t grimace at the sharp pain. The other man snarls. “I’d watch your mouth, pretty boy.”

“Aw, you think I’m pretty.” Eugene meets his eyes, his glare not matching his overly cheery tone. “I’m flattered. Truly.”

That earns him the sharp blade of a war axe suddenly under his chin. “You’re a right pain in my ass, Flynn Rider.”

“Yeah, well. Get in line.”

The edge of the axe presses a bit more insistently at his throat. Eugene knows that if he breathes too deeply, it will break skin. The other man bares yellowing teeth. “You’re lucky that boss has you under strict no-kill orders or I’d have half a mind to take your head clean off.”

“Oh, I feel lucky,” Eugene replies dryly. “More time for us to spend together. And who would want to miss out on that? Not me, that’s for sure—”

“Boss said _nothing_ about roughing you up, though. So I’d think very carefully about the next words that leave your mouth.”

Rapunzel’s voice sends a jolt of panic through him. “Eugene—”

“Oh, you had to go and ruin the moment with a threat,” Eugene interrupts quickly. He’s hoping that the sudden fear stays off his face. “And it was such a lovely moment, too.”

The thug moves so fast that Eugene doesn’t even have time to brace for it. A flash of movement, blinding pain across his temple that whips his head to the side, and then the sight of a bloodied axe hilt in the other man’s hand. Eugene tries to blink the stars from his vision, unsure if he’s imagining the laugh from the other man or if it’s just the ringing in his ears.

Rapunzel yells something—strained and angry and desperate—but Eugene can barely hear her. His vision is still swimming and for a moment, Eugene thinks he might be about to pass out again. He’s distantly aware that his assailant says something sharply in response to her, stepping out of Eugene’s spotty vision.

A fresh wave of panic squeezes like a steel band around Eugene’s chest. He opens his mouth to say something—anything—when the door opens.

“Oi!” A different voice barks from the doorway. “Boss wants to see us.”

Not a new voice, Eugene realizes as the ringing has started to ease. He recognizes the voice from yesterday. The demand is met with a groan of annoyance, but the man follows obediently out the door, sparing a dark glare that Eugene returns with equal contempt before the door slams shut. Eugene waits for the footsteps to recede before he lets his face twist into a grimace of pain against the throbbing in his head.

Still, he keeps his tone as light as he can manage, his stomach twisting a bit with concern. “You okay, Sunshine?”

Rapunzel doesn’t answer right away. Eugene wishes—for not the first time—that he could see her face. He hears Rapunzel sigh.

“I should be asking you that.”

“Me? I’m right as rain.”

“ _Eugene_.”

“Okay,” he relents slightly. “So maybe old Moldy-Breath gave me a bit of a headache. But it’s all good.” _As long as they didn’t hurt you_ , Eugene adds silently.

“It’s _not_ all good. _Nothing_ about it is _good_ ,” Rapunzel snaps. “I… Eugene, you keep antagonizing them, and… and I…” her voice chokes off. Eugene swallows as she takes a breath. He can’t apologize. Not when he knows he plans to keep doing it. Rapunzel clears her throat. “We need a plan. Any ideas?”

“An escape plan?” Eugene asks. Because his plan to protect Rapunzel did not yet involve escape but _did_ involve keeping attention on himself whenever one or more of their captors were in the room. Rapunzel had described it as ‘antagonizing them’, but Eugene liked to think of it as using everything in his arsenal to keep her safe. Including his smart mouth.

Eugene continues. “Can’t say I do. My hands are—heh—tied. Literally.” He flexes against the rope again.

“Pascal went to get Max during the ambush,” Rapunzel continues softly, as if thinking out loud. “But I don’t know how they’re going to find us.”

“If I know one thing, it’s that your parents will move heaven and earth to find you,” Eugene says, hoping that the sentiment is reassuring.

Rapunzel hums in response, and Eugene thinks that maybe—just maybe—he hears the faintest trace of a smile in the sound.

“I don’t want to just wait around hoping you’re right,” she replies, that familiar edge of determination sparking in her voice. “There’s got to be some way out.”

Eugene’s eyes flit around the part of the room that he can see. A single wooden door directly ahead of him is the only way in or out, as far as he can tell. The stone walls, floor, and ceiling doesn’t offer much in the way of hope for escape. From the squares of light on the far wall, Eugene knows there’s a window on the wall behind him. But gauging from the size of those patches of light, there isn’t a prayer that either one of them can escape through it. Pascal would’ve been able to fit, but not a human person.

“That door is our only ticket out of here,” Eugene says quietly. “Unless you see something I don’t.”

“I don’t—”

Rapunzel cuts off at the jingle of keys outside the door. The lock clicks. The door creaks open.

“Welcome back!” Eugene says brightly, his gaze quickly sweeping over the gruff man that steps into the room. He’s large—several inches taller than Eugene even if he’d been standing—but it’s the bloodthirsty look in his sharp blue eyes that makes Eugene swallow. Eugene remembers him from two days ago, and just how hard he could hit.

Then Eugene catches sight of the key attached loosely at his belt, and a plan starts to form.

“You know,” Eugene adds conversationally, “I was starting to get a little lonely.”

“I think you’ll find that you want to be quiet, Rider.” The voice is a low, rumbling sound that reminds Eugene vaguely of thunder.

“Ah, quiet is not something I’ve ever been particularly good at.” Eugene sees the clench in the man’s jaw. _Push, push, push_. “Just like you’ve never been particularly good at throwing a punch. We all have our strengths.”

The flash in his eyes is all the warning Eugene has before the fist connects solidly in Eugene’s gut, forcing the air from his lungs. He chokes off with a wheeze, coughing as he gasps in a breath. The corner of the other man’s lips curls up in a satisfied smirk.

“Eugene!” Rapunzel cries out.

 _Push more_ , Eugene tells himself as he catches his breath. He flashes a smile up at the other man, and there’s a vindictive sort of satisfaction as Eugene sees his brow furrow in confusion.

“You’ll forgive me if I’m not all that impressed,” Eugene quips, “given that it’s hardly a fair fight. Tied up like this, I’m really just a glorified punching bag. Anyone could land a half-way decent punch.”

The other man flashes teeth in a snarl, and Eugene knows that he’s on the right track.

“Shut your mouth or I’ll shut it for you!”

“Eh, no points for originality there either.” Eugene shrugs. “I’m just saying, you’re only proving something if it’s a fair fight. Otherwise, it seems a little like you’re overcompensating.”

“Eugene, _please_ ,” Rapunzel begs, something sharp in her tone. Eugene pretends it doesn’t send a twist of guilt through his gut.

The guilt is replaced quickly as Eugene realizes that the first part of his plan has worked. The other man growls, pointing a dagger under his chin—which makes Eugene very nearly roll his eyes because didn’t they have some other trick in their book?—but then he starts untying Eugene’s hands. Eugene doesn’t make any sudden moves, the cool steel of the knife grazing his chin.

“You want a fair fight?” the other man growls. In one lightning flash motion, the dagger is sheathed and a fist connects with Eugene’s jaw hard enough to knock him out of the chair. Eugene tumbles ungracefully to the floor. He wipes at the blood of his now-split lip, the sting of copper fresh on his tongue.

“You know, I admire a man who doesn’t pull his punches.” Eugene pushes himself to his feet, the room still spinning a bit.

“Who says I wasn’t pulling that punch?” the other man challenges with a grin.

Eugene swings a punch of his own, intentionally a bit wide. Eugene knows that he cannot win this fight anyway—the man is much bigger, and Eugene isn’t sure he could seriously take him fisticuffs on a good day let alone in his current condition—but he has to get the man to underestimate him first. That is, if he’s going to let Eugene get up close and personal.

Eugene’s right hook is blocked easily and retaliated with a fist to his stomach that drops him to one knee.

“Wait--!” Rapunzel says, straining to look over her shoulder.

Eugene doesn’t. He charges his full weight towards him, and the man braces for it. Eugene manages to send him stumbling back a step, but only one, and Eugene is promptly shoved back and against the wall. A large, meaty hand closes around his throat just enough to make it hard to breathe.

“Is that all you got, Rider?” the man growls. “You’re downright pathetic.”

Eugene sees his opening. He swings—wide and weak—with his left hand towards the man’s face while his right hand drops to the other man’s hip where he keeps the key. His blow is easy to see coming, but it’s also the perfect misdirection. As the other man blocks the blow with his free hand—the one _not_ slowly crushing Eugene’s windpipe—Eugene uses his right hand to deftly slip the key from the belt loop and slips it into his sleeve to conceal it from view.

“So maybe I’m a little out of practice,” Eugene wheezes. Then he drives his own knee up into the other man’s gut. It’s not much in the way of blows, but it’s enough to get him to let go of his throat. Eugene gasps, his legs almost giving out from under him.

He’s barely stood up straight before something smashes into the left side of his ribcage and sends him sprawling. Eugene can’t help the sharp cry that breaks from his throat as he’s sent sprawling. A swift kick to his ribs forces the rest of the air from his lungs and Eugene thinks hazily that he felt something give way.

He curses under his breath, struggling up onto his hands and knees to drag air into his lungs.

“Cursing in front of royalty, Rider?” the other man sneers, his voice from somewhere above him.

Eugene opens his eyes, realizing that the blow had sent him sprawling to the other side of the room. He can see Rapunzel now. Her horror-stricken eyes meet his, but she looks unharmed and Eugene figures that’s something. In fact, her face is the best thing he’s seen in days. His heart flutters a little. _Help her get out at all costs._

Eugene stumbles towards her a step, closing his left hand over her right. “Forgive me,” he says, and a part of him means it, even though he’s not really apologizing for the cursing. He lets the key in his sleeve slip down his palm and into hers. Rapunzel’s eyes grow wider in understanding and surprise, her fingers folding deftly over the object as Eugene turns away from her.

Eugene prepares himself to charge back at the man when the door opens again and three other thugs charge in. One of them looks to be a bit cleaner than the others—dark hair, a well-trimmed goatee, and sharp eyes—and his gaze zeroes in on Eugene the moment he steps through the door.

“What’s this?” he demands, but his voice is icy cold. “Subdue him.”

Eugene opens his mouth to respond, but suddenly two of the men in the room rush him and he’s slammed against the wall, pinned in place. Eugene coughs as the sharp pain in his ribs flare at the collision against the stone. Eugene struggles against their grip, but it’s useless.

“I was showing Rider that he’s not as great as he thinks he is,” the man he’d been fighting with previously growls.

The man with the goatee rolls his eyes. “Childish,” he chides, but his gaze doesn’t waver from Eugene. “Though from the looks of it, you were more than winning that fight.”

“I think I got a few licks in—” Eugene cuts off when one of the men’s grip on him tightens.

“Hm.” The goatee man’s gaze lingers a moment longer before it flickers to Rapunzel and narrows in interest. Eugene feels his blood run cold.

“I’d be happy to try three on one,” Eugene says suddenly, desperate to drag the attention back to him.

“Oh, there’s no need for that, Flynn. Can I call you Flynn?”

“Well, actually—”

“Take her,” the man cuts Eugene off with a wave of his hand, addressing the other man—roughly the size of Atilla, Eugene thinks idly. The man crosses to Rapunzel, and Eugene feels his chest clench with sudden panic as he realizes what’s about to happen.

“No!” he demands, wrenching his shoulders from the other men’s grip so suddenly and so fiercely that he slips from their grasp for a moment. He lurches towards her, but hands are on him and pulling him back in less than second.

“Eugene—” Rapunzel starts to say, her wide green eyes meeting his before she’s met with a cloth gag around her mouth, cutting off the rest of her words. The man then unties her wrists, and Eugene’s heart is already thundering in his chest but it gives a small jump when he moves to the hand that has the key. Rapunzel already has slipped it down her own sleeve, apparently, and Eugene counts it as a small mercy.

The second her hands and feet are free, Rapunzel strikes out, her eyes flaring with indignation. The man’s head barely moves from the blow to his jaw, and Rapunzel tries to shove him back but he is at least twice her weight and the move barely budges him.

“Rapunzel!”

She’s grabbed around her arms and lifted by the man and Eugene thrashes but he _can’t get free_. Rapunzel’s fighting as best she can as she’s carried to the door, but she’s exhausted and dehydrated and woefully outmatched. She yells something behind the gag that sounds like his name before the door slams shut.

“ _No_!” Eugene wonders if his voice sounds as ragged as he thinks it does. “You can’t take her!”

“I think you’ll find, Flynn Rider,” the man with the goatee says, infuriatingly calm, “that we can do whatever we wish.”

He gives a curt nod. Eugene doesn’t even see the blow coming before the world goes black.

…

Eugene blinks his eyes open. “Rapunzel?” he asks blearily, before he remembers what had happened.

He jolts to awareness with a start as the memories flood back to him. It’s then that he realizes that he’s not even sitting in a chair. He’s still restrained, but it’s by shackles rather than rope. His eyes follow the short chains to where they’re anchored to the wall. He thinks he’s probably in the same cell as before, but the chairs in the middle of the room have been discarded. It’s empty.

 _Empty_. No Rapunzel. There’s an odd, caving kind of feeling in Eugene’s chest.

He sighs and swallows. He got her the key to the door. Since the man only had one key, Eugene figures there’s probably a decent chance that all the cells open with the same key. So wherever they took her, she probably still had a chance to escape. _If she’s still alive_ , something hisses in Eugene’s mind.

Eugene shakes his head quickly. Of course she’s still alive. Rapunzel is the most resilient person he knows, and besides. They’d been taken as leverage against the Crown. Eugene hadn’t been dealing with the shady side of business in the kingdom for long before he’d learned that dead leverage was no leverage at all. And Rapunzel was certainly a bigger bargaining chip than himself. So if he was still alive, then Rapunzel was still alive.

The rationalization does very little to assuage the leaden weight in his stomach.

How many days had they been here? Eugene was beginning to lose track. Four? Seven? Three? Something like that. When Rapunzel was here, he’d been able to focus his attention on her. Protecting her in the ways he was able whenever they weren’t alone and trying to make her smile when they were. Keep her spirits high. Although Eugene knows that _really_ , if he’s being honest, Rapunzel had been doing more to keep his spirits high than the other way around.

Now she’s gone. Eugene is alone with his thoughts, and a grim part of him realizes that he doesn’t want that to be true. Not knowing what was happening to Rapunzel was far, far worse than weathering a few punches and the recurring knife-to-his-throat.

Why did they separate them? Eugene doesn’t know. He’s not sure he’ll like the answer, if he ever finds out.

He sighs, letting his head rest gingerly against the stone wall behind him. He watches the sunlight filter through the tiny window above him, dust and dirt particles floating in the streak of light that streams into the room. His eyes drift closed and he thinks about trying to go back to sleep.

He’s nearly asleep, actually, when the sound of the door opening pulls him from consciousness. He stays still, keeps his eyes closed, and tracks the sound of footsteps moving into the room. Two sets, as far as Eugene can tell.

“We know you’re awake,” one of them says. Eugene recognizes the voice. _Goatee_ , he thinks. His blood turns hot with anger.

Eugene quirks an eyebrow and doesn’t open his eyes yet. “Well I am _now_. I was trying to catch some beauty sleep. A face this pretty doesn’t happen without some effort, you know.” He cracks an eye open.

Goatee—as Eugene had taken to calling him—is standing above him. The other man is someone Eugene doesn’t recognize, about his size if a little bit taller, but he stays back by the door. Goatee sneers down, flashing white teeth in the dark.

“You’ll find, Mr. Rider, that I am not as easily goaded into displays of aggression as my employees.”

A sharp retort— _you employ them? What kind of benefits do you offer?_ —is on the tip of his tongue, but Eugene doesn’t let it slip. His lack of a filter before was to protect Rapunzel. Now? Well, now there wasn’t much reason for him to say anything. Eugene resolutely keeps his mouth shut, glaring up at his captor.

Goatee arcs an eyebrow. “No smart remark this time? Hm. I’ll admit, I’m disappointed.”

Eugene thinks about demanding to know what they did with Rapunzel. But he has a feeling that he wouldn’t get an answer, and certainly not one he could trust. Besides, he knows he’s really not in any position to be demanding much of anything.

“The silent treatment?” Goatee continues after a moment’s pause when Eugene still says nothing. “Pity. Though I think you’ll come to realize that we have ways of making you talk.” With sharp movements, Goatee drops to one knee and presses a hand against Eugene’s ribs. It sends a flash of heat and pain tearing through his side and a strangled gasp escapes him before he can think to stifle it. He curls around himself and Goatee lets him, pulling his hand away. He stays crouched, close to eye-level with him now.

Eugene can feels his cold, calculating stare on him as he manages to catch his breath. “What do you want to know?” Eugene growls, keeping one arm wrapped protectively around his ribs. “You haven’t even asked anything yet.”

“I want to know _everything_ , Flynn Rider. Corona’s weaknesses, its strengths, troop movements, battle strategies. I want it all.”

“I thought you wanted us for ransom,” Eugene shoots back through a grimace.

“I wanted the _princess_ for ransom,” Goatee corrects. “I wanted the Captain of the Guard for _information_.”

“You won’t get it,” Eugene grits out as he tries to sit up a bit more. “Not from me.”

“We’ll see about that.” He pulls something out of his belt and Eugene sees the flash of steel in the limited sunlight. “Do you know what this is, Flynn?”

Eugene gives him a dry look. His ribcage is still burning, but it’s starting to settle back into that familiar throb. “If you’re going to threaten me with a knife, I’m afraid your _employees_ have beaten you to it. Several times, in fact. Do you all take the same training course?”

“It’s a stiletto dagger,” Goatee continues as if he hadn’t heard Eugene at all. “When used with finesse, it can inflict tremendous pain. And well. I train all of my men on it _very_ well.” He leans in then, grinning wickedly.

A chill runs down Eugene’s spine but he does his best to keep it off his face. “I’ve kind of already done the whole ‘being stabbed’ thing, as much as I hate to burst your bubble.”

“Ah, but has your _princess_?”

Eugene’s stomach rolls and he opens his mouth to say something when he’s cut off by a sound. A scream, and even though it’s distant, Eugene’s head spins with its familiarity. _Rapunzel_. His blood turns to ice. His vision goes red.

Eugene lunges towards Goatee but he’s already backed out of reach and the chains rattle sharply as they yank Eugene back to the wall. Goatee studies Eugene, his expression not changing from the detached, almost intrigued expression on his face.

“Let her go!”

“Hm,” Goatee hums, unphased. “Fascinating. We’ll be in touch.”

“No--!” But they’ve left the room, letting the door slam closed and Eugene swears that Rapunzel’s scream is still echoing in the space around him.

…

Eugene jolts awake to the sound of crashing and shouting somewhere off in the distance on the other side of the door. The cell around him is dark, and it takes a moment for Eugene’s eyes to adjust to the lack of light. Dim sunlight had still been filtering through the tiny window above him when he’d fallen asleep, so he guesses that it’s some time in the middle of the night.

Eugene can’t make out the voices that are shouting, and doesn’t dare venture a guess as to what the commotion is all about. He couldn’t make use of the chaos even if he wanted to, he thinks, glancing down at the iron shackles around his wrists. He tugs on it experimentally, but the tight manacles are cutting sharply into his skin that is already rubbed raw from his struggle against them earlier. In his blind desperation to get to Rapunzel, after hearing…

Eugene does his best to straighten up, wincing at the jolt of pain from his ribs. _Definitely broken_ , he thinks. He’d dealt with broken ribs enough to know them when he felt them.

He thinks of Rapunzel. He tries to picture her face rather than the echo of her scream from earlier in the day that still reverberates in his mind. Of the soft look in her green eyes every time she said his name. Rapunzel has the key to the door. Eugene fears asking for too much, but he hopes fervently that she’s able to take advantage of whatever chaos is ensuing on the other side of the door to escape.

His cell door bangs open suddenly and Eugene jumps.

It’s the man wit the goatee. But there’s something off about him that keeps Eugene from saying his usual sarcastic greeting. He looks… almost crazed. His piercing blue eyes are wild, his hair disheveled, and bares his teeth in a vicious snarl. Something uneasy rolls through Eugene’s stomach and despite the fact that he has nowhere to go, Eugene shifts further back into the wall as if he can somehow get away from him.

He knows it’s useless. But he doesn’t think he’s ever seen anyone look so… _unhinged_ , and instinct is screaming at Eugene to put as much distance as he can between himself and the other man.

“What’s—” Eugene tries to ask, but he’s cut off with a boot connecting solidly with his stomach.

“Shut up!” the man snaps as Eugene curls instinctively around himself, coughing. Eugene’s barely aware that his shackles are being unlocked as he catches his breath. Before he can think, Eugene feels the man yank him to his feet, an arm wrapped around his shoulders in a surprisingly strong grip and the point of a blade digging dangerously under his chin.

“ _Walk_.” The one word is growled low in his ear, accompanied with a clumsy shove forward that does nothing to diminish the man’s grip on Eugene.

“Okay, okay,” Eugene says, doing his best to sound placating. Eugene walks through the door and immediately realizes Goatee’s problem.

The hall between the cells is in chaos.

Metal shrieks against metal as swords and axes clash. Eugene sees the sun-shaped crest of Corona and the familiar red-and-gold guard uniforms caught in combat with the leather-armored captors. The familiar voices of his fellow guard members clash in their shouts. And in the middle of it all—staggering to a stop at the dead-run she’d been in towards Eugene’s cell—stands Rapunzel. Despite knowing that he is still very much in danger, a part of Eugene goes a little weak with relief.

“ _You_!” the man snarls from behind Eugene. “How’d you escape?”

Eugene’s eyes flit over Rapunzel again and again, a part of him afraid that she was going to disappear into smoke if he looked away. She seemed… okay. At least, _mostly_ okay as far as Eugene could tell. Her dress was torn and bloodied at the sleeve, there was a split along her brow that was bleeding still—a fresh wound, then—and she was pale. But she stands tall, her short brown hair falling across her forehead, her face streaked with dirt and sweat. _Beautiful_ , Eugene thinks without an ounce of irony.

Her green eyes flash, furious. “Let him _go_ , Fenaril.” _Fenaril?_ Eugene thinks, wondering how Rapunzel had learned Goatee’s name. Then again, she’d always been cleverer than Eugene.

“Ha!” Fanaril barks a laugh. “You think you’re in a position to _demand_ things of me, princess? Think again!”

“Rapunzel—” Eugene tries, but there’s a jerk on the grip across his shoulders.

“And _you_ ,” Fenaril hisses to him, “should shut up for once in your worthless life.”

“I’m not going to tell you again,” Rapunzel warns in a low, dangerous voice. “ _Let him go_.” She takes a step closer.

Fenaril matches her, taking a step back and dragging Eugene with him to maintain the distance between them. “Ah, ah, ah. I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Rapunzel, it’s okay,” Eugene grits out. “Just go.”

Her eyes flash from Fenaril’s eyes to Eugene’s own. She looks _angry_. Angrier than Eugene can ever remember seeing her. “I’m _not_ leaving you.”

“Then it seems,” Fenaril cuts in impatiently, “that we’re at a bit of an impasse.”

“Fenaril, don’t make this worse for yourself.” Rapunzel holds her hands out to him, palms up. “Let Eugene go and we can—” she takes another step forward, and Fenaril snarls at her.

“I would _not do that if I were you_ ,” he repeats.

“Fenaril—” she takes another step.

The stiletto dagger leaves Eugene’s throat but he doesn’t even have time to take in a deep breath before he feels the blade sink into his shoulder. The strangled, pain noise that breaks from his throat doesn’t sound fully human, even to his own ears. His vision goes white. He thinks he hears Rapunzel yell something, but he can’t make it out.

Eugene is shaking—he can tell, even despite his best attempts to stop it—and he knows that Fenaril’s grip on him is the only thing that keeps him from dropping to his knees. Then the sharp end of the blade is back to his throat.

“Do you want to try that again, princess?”

Eugene thinks, through the weird shock-white haze of heat and pain tearing through his shoulder—that he should open his eyes. Or say something. But he doesn’t, because his thoughts are little more than strings of curse words and a vague but desperate wish that Rapunzel didn’t have to see him get stabbed… again.

“Eu _gene_.” Rapunzel’s voice doesn’t break, but Eugene can hear the way it _almost_ does, and that’s enough to force himself to open his eyes.

He tries his best to offer Rapunzel a smile. Something to reassure her. There’s a desperation in her eyes that reminds Eugene vaguely of that one night in the tower, holding his hand to her hair fruitlessly, singing the Healing Incantation through her tears—

“Hey, sunshine,” he manages, and it’s a _silly_ thing to say right then but it’s the only thing that comes to mind.

It occurs then to Eugene that he could die. For the second time in his life, Eugene finds himself thinking that if Rapunzel’s face is the last thing he ever sees, it’s not such a bad way to go.

“Now, Varian!” Rapunzel shouts.

Eugene barely has time to process what she’s yelled when there’s a loud _pop_ and a hissing sound and suddenly Eugene is pressed against something soft and squishy. The arm across his chest holding him in place is immediately encased in a blue, gelatinous substance. The hand to his neck holding the knife is covered as well. Eugene shuts his eyes and tenses, waiting to the sting of the knife against his neck.

It doesn’t come.

A moment passes, and Eugene is aware of two voices talking to him—both of them familiar and he thinks one of them might be Rapunzel but his mind is spinning and he can’t keep up with it. Hands are grabbing at him, helping him extract from the vice-like grip that Fenaril had on him after they’ve pulled the dagger away from his throat. And Eugene thinks he should thank them, or say something, but his mind is swimming in a weird haze and his vision is tunneling.

“Varian, can you—”

“Rapunzel, he’s gonna—!"

Eugene doesn’t hear the end of the statement before the world spins and goes dark.

…

“Varian,” Eugene says, two days later, as he watches the royal engineer trip over the edge of Eugene’s bed in his rush to give him the medicine he’d forgotten.

“What?” Varian glances up from the cup in his hands, his dark hair falling into his eyes despite the way his goggles were attempting to keep most of it out of his face.

Eugene offers him a small, reassuring smile. “Relax. It’s just painkillers, kid.” He takes the cup from the alchemist’s hands as Varian nods absently. Eugene downs it quickly, grimacing at the unpleasant taste. Once emptied, Eugene sets the cup on the table beside him.

Varian sighs a little, rubbing the back of his neck. “How’re the bandages?”

Eugene glances down, surprised by the question. The bandages around his ribs had been changed a few hours ago. “They’re fine.”

“And your shoulder?”

“I’m okay, Varian,” Eugene assures him.

The alchemist had been one of a few people that had been hovering the past few days, ever since they got back to the kingdom. Rapunzel had barely left his side, and the only reason she wasn’t in the room presently was because she’d been requested to give a State of the Kingdom address to assure the people of Corona that she and Eugene were recovering well and the culprits involved in the kidnapping had been detained. Lance did his best to stop by every day, though Eugene was in an out of consciousness for most of those first 36 hours so his memories of Lance were hazy at best.

Between the three of them and the members of the guard that would stop by to check in or give him a status report of the state of things—which Eugene was pretty sure was just a reason for some of them to stop by rather than their actual intention—Eugene hadn’t been left alone since before the siege of Fenaril’s place. And even when Rapunzel had been present and Eugene had been awake, which wasn’t often, they were almost never alone together. Which meant that it had been hard for Eugene to gauge, really, if Rapunzel was as okay as she had been pretending to be.

“Hey, Varian?” The alchemist looks up at him. Eugene hesitates, then sighs. “How’s Rapunzel been?”

Varian averts his gaze. “She’s… worried about you,” he says softly. “She doesn’t talk much about what happened, but I heard her tell Lance that you took the worst of it.”

Something in Eugene relaxes a bit at that, but not by much. “Is she getting sleep?”

Varian sighs a little. “I think so, but I don’t think it’s very much. I make sure she tries, though.”

Eugene nods, offering a faint half-smile. “Thank you.”

“It’s not much.”

“It’s plenty,” Eugene assures, frowning at the young genius. It’s not like Varian could be expected to force Rapunzel to sleep, and Eugene knew there were plenty of reasons why she may be… struggling with that. Eugene was well aware that his own sleeping was more a result of drowsiness brought on by medicine and exhaustion rather than indicative of how well he’s actually able to sleep.

He has a feeling he has his own sleepless nights yet ahead of him. He’d had a few following that night at the tower with Gothel, after all.

Varian shakes his head slightly in response to Eugene. “But—”

“Varian,” Eugene insists, “I don’t know how I would’ve gotten out of there alive if it weren’t for you. You did _plenty_.”

“I’ve… never seen you like that, Eugene,” Varian says, so quietly that Eugene almost doesn’t hear him. When he finally meets Eugene’s gaze, there’s something haunted in his blue eyes that catches Eugene off guard. “That… that beaten up? It had to have hurt. A lot.”

Eugene tosses him a smile and it feels a little brittle but Varian seems to relax a bit at it. “Nothing I can’t handle, kid. Here,” he adds, desperate to change the subject. “Help me stand up.”

Varian’s eyes widen. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

Eugene waves the concern off. “I just wanna stretch my legs for a bit. I’m not trying to run a marathon. We’re Team Awesome, aren’t we?” He sits up a bit more at the mountain of pillows, taking a breath before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.

Varian scrambles towards him, apparently realizing that Eugene was going to try to walk with or without help, and wraps Eugene’s non-injured arm around his shoulders. Varian had grown taller in recent months, and though he’s still shorter than Eugene, it’s only by a few inches. Eugene stands and lets Varian shoulder some of his weight. He is, admittedly, a bit surprised that his legs seem to hold. Even if maybe they tremble just a little from the exertion.

“What are you two doing?” asks a familiar voice from the doorway.

Standing in the threshold of Eugene’s bedroom stands Rapunzel. The gash in her eyebrow has been closed with stitches. She’s not quite as pale as she’d been during the standoff with Fenaril, though Eugene can see the dark circles of exhaustion under her eyes. His stomach twists with concern, but there’s an almost amused lilt to her voice that makes his face break out into a smile.

“Sunshine!” Eugene goes to take a step towards her, and very nearly collapses as his already shaky legs give out on him. Varian yelps, staggering a bit in his effort to keep Eugene from crumpling to the floor.

Rapunzel crosses quickly to them, taking Varian’s place as the alchemist helps transfer the weight over to her. They both help Eugene sit on the edge of the bed.

“I told him it was a bad idea,” Varian explains, “but he said he wanted to ‘stretch his legs’.”

With Rapunzel this close—closer than she’s been in _days_ —smelling faintly of paint and lavender soap, all Eugene _really_ wants to do right now is to pull her closer. Bury his face into her neck and not let go. Just breathe her in. Card his fingers through her hair. Prove to himself that she is really here. Really okay. Really _safe_.

Eugene’s hands shake a little with the thought and he curls his free one against his thigh. Rapunzel seems to sense, or feel, the way he’s trembling because she looks at him with her brows pinched together in concern.

Eugene’s answering smile is flimsy at best. “Wasn’t Varian’s fault.”

The look of concern doesn’t waver. Rapunzel seems hesitant to let her gaze waver from his but she lets her green eyes flicker to Varian for a moment, her lips pursing. “Varian, could… you give us a minute? Maybe check on Pascal for me? He’s been pretty exhausted the past few days.”

“Oh! Yeah, of course. I should get this stuff to the kitchen to be cleaned, too,” he says, gathering the cup and plate that sits on the table and quickly exiting out of the room. He closes the door behind him.

“Rapunzel—”

“Eugene—”

They both stop, their mouths snapping shut nearly in unison. Eugene’s eyes start to sting and he thinks that now, _now_ , is an extraordinarily odd time for his resolve to buckle. The edges of his vision blur and Eugene stares at the gold clasp of her dress at her neckline because he knows that if he meets her eyes, he might fall apart.

“Eugene,” Rapunzel whispers, and he feels a hand cup his jaw. Eugene squeezes his eyes shut, leaning into the unbearably gentle touch.

“Rapunzel, can… can I…” Eugene askingly tugs her closer and Rapunzel gravitates towards him without hesitation.

Eugene wraps his good arm around her waist and holds on tight, burying his face into the crook of her neck. _She’s safe. She’s safe. She’s safe_. Rapunzel is holding him just as tightly, just as close, though mindful of his injuries. Eugene can feel his hair getting damp and feels the jerk in Rapunzel’s shoulders with an aborted sob and he just squeezes all the tighter.

At some point, he knows, they’ll need to talk about it. Rapunzel’s scream will echo in his nightmares for weeks, and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever work up the courage to ask what they did to elicit it from her. Rapunzel will struggle to sleep at all. They’ll gravitate closer to one another in the days, weeks, that follow. But they’ll get through it together. One step at a time. Like they do with everything else.

For now, Eugene just holds on to her as tight as he can.


End file.
